I spent my night burning myself in a hot shower wishing it was the time for me to be thrown away.
Nature's order, still life painting, double heart beats. I'm leaning out of time.
Celebrity's death after years of battling his own demon; but what about the undefeated demon who lives inside my head?
Should I turn on the hot shower and let myself soak in through the darkness or should I drown myself in a tub full of everybody's tears in their waking moments?
I wonder how many of them would dance on top of my concrete grave.
Maybe it's better for me to wash my own laundry and save my philosophies of death close to me.
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